


Ins and Outs

by ohmyflavors (hannibae)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibae/pseuds/ohmyflavors
Summary: He only lets himself dither for another few seconds, leaning forward to plant his elbows on the desk and bury his face in his hands. Muffled by his palms, he says, “He left me last night.”“What?” And Rhett sounds--He sounds a lot of things all at once, just in that one disbelieving word: shocked and pissed and sorry. Link didn’t expect sorry. He expected pissed and he expected shocked, but.Rhett’s hardly ever sorry. He tries hard to be, but he typically misses the mark. But this is genuine, and it wracks through Link a little bit.
Relationships: Link Neal/Original Male Character(s), Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Ins and Outs

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission fill for [outofnowhere82](https://outofnowhere82.tumblr.com/), who asked for a freshly dumped link seeing his ex out in public with someone else, and rhett kissing link to make his ex jealous!

“You respond to that email yet?” 

Link blinks a couple times, the light from the computer burning his already sensitive eyes, and it takes him a second to realize Rhett’s talking to him. It takes a couple more seconds and a thump to his shoulder before he’s shaking himself out of his daze, ripping his glasses off to rub at his eyes as he says, “Uh-- no, not yet. Sorry.” 

Rhett hums, and it burns like embarrassment in the back of his throat. “Everything okay, man? You’ve been out of it all morning.” 

It’s weird, holding this in, letting it sit heavy on his chest instead of telling Rhett, but for some silly reason he’s convinced himself if he doesn’t actually say it out loud it isn’t real. The words keep dying on the back of his tongue, refusing to make it out past his lips, and even though Rhett is his best friend, he doesn’t know that he’s ready for him to know. 

Shit,  _ Link’s  _ not ready, and it’s already happened. 

He only lets himself dither for another few seconds, leaning forward to plant his elbows on the desk and bury his face in his hands. Muffled by his palms, he says, “He left me last night.” 

“ _ What _ ?” And Rhett sounds-- 

He sounds a lot of things all at once, just in that one disbelieving word: shocked and pissed and  _ sorry _ . Link didn’t expect sorry. He expected pissed and he expected shocked, but. 

Rhett’s hardly ever sorry. He tries hard to be, but he typically misses the mark. But this is genuine, and it wracks through Link a little bit. 

“Yeah,” he says on an exhale. “He, uh-- he told me he was tired of fighting for my attention. That I worked too much, spent too much time invested in this,” and he gestures around them. 

Rhett runs a hand through his beard, combing it out with his fingers. “That guy was an ass, anyway.” 

An indelicate snort, and Link feels himself start to unspool. The tension in his guts settles a little, and it feels a bit more manageable, now. Still, he rubs his palms into his eyes until he sees spots and then leans back with enough force to rock the chair on its wheels. Rhett’s not wrong. 

Plus, his name was Neil, and that just-- 

It got weird, sometimes is all. 

And they weren’t together for long enough for this to be devastating, but it still stings. They had fun together, most of the time. He was sweet and cute and had enough energy to keep up with Link when he really got going. Mostly, he was somebody that was there, which shouldn’t have been enough, but it was at the time. 

He says, “I was gonna bring him to the Christmas party.” For good measure, he scoffs, tilting his head back and staring at the stucco ceilings. “This is so stupid.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Rhett says, and Link furrows his brows, sits back up, folds his arms across his chest. 

“You’re already gonna be there.” 

“Yeah, but we can carpool,” he clarifies, shrugging. “That way you don’t show up alone, and I don’t show up alone. It’ll be fun.” 

At that, Link laughs, heartily and honest. “Man, the last thing the damn Christmas party ever is is  _ fun _ .” 

And Rhett’s eyes are crinkled in the corners with his smile as he shrugs again, says, “Don’t be a party pooper, Link.” Then, he slaps Link on the shoulder and says, “Go answer that freakin’ email, man.” 

Link throws a paperclip at his head. 

He answers the damn email.

\-- 

Link’s been to Rhett’s house a few times. It’s nice, modern. There are plenty of angles and corners, and he’d had it professionally decorated, because of  _ course  _ he did. Claims it was a favor for a friend trying to build her portfolio, but Link knows it was more than just that. 

But, it’s a nice house. Jessie did a great job, truly. The couches that aren’t in the living room are uncomfortable, but he figures they’re there for decoration anyway. And there are too many mirrors, but Rhett likes to look at himself so if makes sense. 

Link’s favorite room in Rhett’s house is the kitchen. It’s big and roomy, and Rhett’s got more gadgets than any one man could ever possibly need. The only one Link’s allowed to use without Rhett’s supervision is the blender, because he has the same one at his house, so he busies himself while he waits for Rhett to finish dealing with his hair by making a milkshake. 

And it isn’t until he’s pouring it into two glasses, topping them both with whipped cream, that Rhett makes his way into the room, snorting loudly when he sees what Link’s doing. 

“I got bored, man,” Link laughs, pushing Rhett’s glass closer to him and taking a sip of his own. 

All he gets in response is a hum, Rhett’s eyes narrowing as he pulls a heavy sip through the straw. As he swallows, he nods in approval. “I see you found the good ice cream.” 

“It was the Haagen-Dazs or pistachio, and nobody likes pistachio ice cream.” 

“Whatever,” and he rolls his eyes. “Just remember this next time I go to your house and use all your good shampoo.” 

It’s Link’s turn to roll his eyes, pulling his straw out to suck some whipped cream through it, licking the drippy milkshake off of it before he makes a mess.

“You don’t even use shampoo anymore, man,” he says around his mouthful, shoving his straw back into his milkshake. 

Rhett eyes him, raises his brows dramatically. “I will out of spite. Don’t challenge me.” 

This is nice, Link realizes. This easy back-and-forth, the comfort of being in Rhett’s home with him and sharing a relaxed moment. It takes some of the tension out of his shoulders, and he leans against the counter with a grin. 

They finish their impromptu milkshakes sharing lazy conversation, and Link feels good by the time they’re walking out the door. The nervous energy is gone, replaced by something warm settled in his limbs, something familiar. When they were kids, he got like this at the very end of the night, right before he fell asleep. 

It’s that feeling of absolute surety that he’s exactly where he needs to be in at that moment. Things aligned themselves in the way they needed to and he’s perfectly aligned with them. 

And by the time they’re walking into the Christmas party, nothing else really matters. 

He’s present and he’s accounted for, and he’s exactly where he needs to be. 

\-- 

And, well. 

Well. 

Good things never last, do they?

The party was fine. Link ended up winning a car cleaning kit from a raffle, and Rhett got one of those weird sinus-clearing pots you fill with warm, salty water. And it was  _ fine _ . It was boring and generic and corporate, just like every other freakin’ Christmas party. 

Rhett was hungry after, and Link could definitely eat, so they’d decided to go to In-N-Out because that’s where they always end up anyway, and Link had talked Rhett into sitting down and eating instead of getting it to-go. Except it ended up being a bad idea, because he was about three bites into his burger when Neil walks in. 

Hand-in-hand with someone else. Someone tall and skinny with glasses and dark hair, and Rhett’s face goes from lax to confused to pissed in about four seconds flat. Link’s pretty sure his does the same thing, but he just shrugs noncommittally and takes his fourth bite, determined not to let this ruin his night. 

Because he doesn’t care. 

He doesn’t. It’s stupid to care. It was a three month sort-of-relationship that neither of them were really all that into, anyway, and Link doesn’t care. Clearly Neil just has a type and Link happened to fit it, and that’s  _ fine _ . They didn’t work. 

He says as much to Rhett, who looks like he’s getting ready to tell Link to stand up and say something, is actually moving like he’s gathering his food to pack up. All Rhett does is nod, say, “Mm-hm,” with his eyes never leaving the two of them. 

“Rhett, seriously, man, it’s not that big of a--” 

“Oh,” he hears in a familiar voice. Obviously caught off-guard. “Shit, this is, uh. This is awkward.” 

“Yeah, um. Yeah, no, it’s cool, man,” Link promises, tosses a couple of fries in his mouth for something to distract himself with. 

And literally right as he’s swallowing, Rhett’s tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Link’s neck and pulling him forward, slotting their mouths together in a kiss that’s got Link’s eyes going wide and confused. Rhett’s lips are soft and sure, his beard is-- different.

It feels familiar and strange all at once, like they’ve done this a thousand times in another lifetime and Link’s getting the phantom memories of it. His stomach flutters with nerves, and he hears Neil murmur a weird, awkward goodbye that Link doesn’t have the capacity to fully register or care about right now. Rhett’s lips move against his own with a confidence that Link’s going to remember to think about later. For now, though, he’s pulling away to gauge what the  _ hell  _ just happened. 

“What the  _ crap _ , Rhett?” 

And Rhett’s clearing his throat, shrugging his shoulders. The only reason Link can tell he’s flustered is because his cheeks are rosy. Otherwise, he looks like they do that  _ all the time _ . He looks like he didn’t just manhandle Link into their first kiss in the middle of a freakin’ In-N-Out because Link’s ex-boyfriend just showed up and interrupted their completely-platonic-not-at-all-a-date-after-office-Christmas-party dinner. 

“Wanted to. Plus, that guy’s an  _ ass _ , Link. Figured if he could walk around with the low-budget version of you, then you could get an upgrade.” 

“Were you hoping to make him  _ jealous _ ?” And at this point, Link’s laughter is bubbling up out of him, nervous and a bit hysteric. 

Furrowed brow, Rhett says, “No, man, I wanted him to know he’s not the only one who’s moved on.” 

“By kissing me,” Link deadpans, still giggling, shaking his head in disbelief. “Thank you for sacrificing your dignity for the sake of  _ defending my honor _ .” 

At that, Rhett shoulders him, and Link pushes back, more laughter tumbling out of him. This is the wildest day he’s had in a while. That’s-- 

Rhett  _ kissed  _ him. 

And Link  _ liked  _ it. 

How he never thought of putting Rhett and kissing in the same files in his brain, he doesn’t know, but now that he’s done it, it’s-- 

It makes a weird amount of sense. 

Besides the fact that Link was pretty sure Rhett was very, very straight until about a minute ago. They’ll talk about that later. 

“I wasn’t  _ defending  _ your freakin’  _ honor _ , man. I  _ wanted  _ to do it, alright?” And he’s shoveling fries into his mouth, his face going red all over now. 

So Link puts a hand on his back and wills his laughter down to something a little less frantic. And, for good measure, he leans in a little bit, until their shoulders are touching. “I liked it,” he says, pulling a sympathetic face. 

Rhett grins, shakes his head. “Yeah?” he asks around a mouthful. 

“Sure,” Link tells him. “Sure, yeah. I wouldn’t mind doing it some more, even.” 

“And what about a date, maybe?” 

“Ain’t that what this is, big guy?” Link teases, and he takes another bite of his burger. Mouth full, he says, “You’ve wined and dined me, baby, what more can a man ask for?” 

  
  



End file.
